


Went down in flames baby

by MissTanaka



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Athletes, Banter, Bikes, Café, Cat Love, College Student, Crush at First Sight, Delinquent reader, F/M, Fighting, Fluff, French, Love at First Sight, Martial Arts, Online Classes, Online Romance, PTSD, Pandemics, Sarcasm, Scars, Tattoos, badass couple, barista, mention of violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-14
Updated: 2020-10-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:07:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27013999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissTanaka/pseuds/MissTanaka
Summary: Miss Victoria Vega is an athlete that isn't very lawful. She takes a class and then on the screen apear some beautiful hands with rings. Online classes during the pandemic bring love to two people who seem to be made for each other.
Relationships: Tanaka Ryuunosuke/Reader
Kudos: 2





	1. Number 18

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This is my first work and currently I'm a little obsessed with Tanaka, why wouldn't I?  
> I'm sort of reflecting myself here, maybe moray alter ego, but i really hope you like it <3

Honestly, college wasn’t so fun as everyone else thought it was or made it seem. I was just a mess and honestly I had no idea how to get on with it. The pandemic started and left us to just fend for ourselves without knowing what in the actual hell we were supposed to do after everything was meant to be closing down. My routine was gonna be fucked up for the foreseeable future, so that afternoon I went in and killed it at training. The taekwondo team was not the most noticed one, the basketball team was, but I preferred a sport where the was a little bit more of freedom to break someones nose, maybe. I could never get tired of the feeling of slipping into my uniform, and tying my belt to fit my waist. It was second nature at this point to tie it perfectly so that it didn’t make uncomfortable, and God it felt amazing and I looked so badass if I wore my hair braided, but today was not the case. A bun would have to suffices. When I was done at the locker room, I walked out in full gear into a 91 degree March weather. Fuck, I loved the weather. As may come as a surprise to some people, I rather enjoyed building up a sweat, weird, I know but I’d take that over freezing my ass any day. 

I walked into the small secluded door near the stairs (some Harry Potter vibes) and walked into the 20x20 squared foot of a fucking freezer where we trained and stretched. I hated the cold so much, my mood just dropped. Later after I’ve gotten home, I would be thinking to myself that maybe I would want to drop out of my classes too. 

Our professors were instructed to use video conference platforms and as surprising as it sounds, people with Phd’s couldn’t seem to be able to work with technology. I had enrolled in my concentration classes, knowing full well that I would enjoy them, fortunately enough. We were mid semester and there was always something that bothered me slightly. I mean, it wasn’t supposed to, but it did anyway. Since the semester started, the professors called role and we were always there except for a “special case” that was a guy who never showed up in class, but was always able to go and take the tests. Apparently he couldn’t attend class, but was able to take it. Unfair, right? I’m not the nosy type, but who was able to just not attend and still get the grade? Ugh, it's just wrong.  
Anyway, moving on to how the semester was going to shit. 

———————————————————————————

It was Monday and it was the first time the professors were using the platforms. We were officially online baby! (I learned how to hate it eventually) The class joined one by one, none of us actually turning on the cameras or the mics. It was 10am, some (like myself) woke up 10 minutes ago, because we took advantage of not having to commute to class or even move from our bed. God knows how long, it’s been since I was able to sleep in. Small chatter broke out between some of us, because the professor wasn’t on time. One by one, the classroom that was usually 17, was now 18. And my oh my, my curiosity spiked (no pun intended considering I am an athlete). Nobody turned on the camera and I needed to see who this number 18 was. That’s when my dumbass spoke:

— Why don’t we turn on our cameras, that way the professor won’t be so pissed. And also, let’s try and keep some kind of normality or some shit—  
They always seemed to laugh whenever I spoke, and I didn’t see any harm in it. I sat up straight into my bed, and turned on my own camera. 

I looked like the sheets were still stuck to my face. My hair was down, so it looked like a dark wine mop falling into my shoulders and the ends tickled my waist. My brown eyes, looked painfully normal, I’m one to be aware of my features. Slightly hooked and crooked nose, due to an elbow to the nose a few years ago. Slightly crocked when I smile, a tiny white scar on my lower lip; and possibly the very obvious scar on my right eyebrow and lid. I’ve always been seen like I’m just scary even though I’m 5’1. I didn’t grow up doing what everyone else was doing. I was a jock, straight A’s but a definite felony charge (but that’s not important). Tattoos didn’t help with the reaction I always got from everyone, but I guess being young required tattoos.  
Everyone showed their faces and we expected number 18 to show up, and oh my fucking God, did he show up.

I was caught off guard because of what I saw, and as if the universe hated my guts, the professor came in with a cheery,  
—Bonjour à tous!— and my vision was still pinned into one single square in the screen.  
I’ll be damned. 

Number 18 wasn’t even showing his face. Only a mid-section of a body was visible. The more I looked into it, the more I noticed that he seemed to be in some kind of restaurant? No, it was a café, he was holding a cup and pouring the warm milk into an espresso. Fuck I want coffee now, I just remembered I haven’t had anything yet. I’m too sore to stand up and the professor was in the middle of explaining how they were gonna be working from now on.  
Back to number 18.  
He seems like he could be tall, maybe? I mean, everyone is taller than me anyway. I could only see his hands. Damn, the hands man. Veiny and he was wearing a few rings that weren’t very flashy just bands in his thumps, and middle finger. And… he… he had his pinky nails painted blue? He’s wearing a barista uniform. Black button down was rolled up to his mid forearm showing bits and pieces of tattoos on both arms.  
GODS WHO LISTEN, LET HIM SHOW HIS FACE!  
His mid-section seems toned enough as he moved and walked back and forth. 

I’m startled by the professor calling my name, followed by the question  
— Miss Vega, is there something more interesting? I’ve called your name twice. Are you planning on joining the class? — she said in a very sweet and scary tone.

— I’m sorry, I-I got slightly distracted. I’m s-sore and distracted. It w-will not happen again— Why am I stuttering?!

A collective chuckle was heard and Number 18 mic remained shut off.  
Fuck, I want coffee.


	2. Are you mine?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She got coffee, and she enjoyed every last bit of it.

IT’S WEDNESDAY! I love Wednesdays, they’re my only free day if the week. 

I’m off work at the bike shop. My brothers and I grew up around bike enthusiast and cars, so my dad opened a shop when we were little and it sort of became so sort of tradition/ initiation for us to start working at the shop whenever we turned fifteen. I’m more of a big person myself, no offense to my car-loving people out there, but bikes got to me and I was able to ride one for the first time when I turned thirteen. My mom hated it, but I just felt my freedom in every part of me. 

IT’S WEDNESDAY! 

I “technically” still have classes, but I’m off work so I’m out the door before 7am. Classes officially being ignored, I get on my pride and joy, my Honda CB Hornet 160R. I remember when I first brought it home and my mom nearly passed out and my dad shrugged it off saying   
“Honda’s are shit, but okay” . My bothers like it, but I was just as excited as ever.  
I turn on the engine and I feel like I’m fearless. I feel the volleyball club lanyard from the key rubbing on my knee and when I look at it memories flood me. 

— Oi, Vega! keep it moving before I regret allowing your lazy-ass in here!—   
Fuck, I hate this already. I could be punching something right now instead of chasing some balls so that some dumb kids can just hit them.   
My mom insisted in me joining some community club or something else other than spending time in the shop, bullying kids or just taking my brothers bikes without their permission just so that I could just drive around and speed in front of cop cars. Low and behold, I’m at the community center in the volleyball court. I’m the ball kid, and I hate it.   
My parents are friends with the coach and he insisted that I could joining if I wanted, and my parents said yes without even asking. Fucking great. San Lorenzo Volleyball club was gonna bear witness to my misery. 

Half an hour later of chasing around balls and sweating in this humid heat, I was pissed and annoyed at every fucking thing in the universe. And then it hit me, literally hit me.  
A kid had spiked a ball and it hit me square in the jaw. That kid had never had to run so fast in his life. When I caught up to him, he was sweaty and crying. Not giving a shit, I knocked him out cold out of pure cooped anger and the heat wasn’t helping. 

I heard footsteps and it was the coach coming my way, his face contorted in a way that let me know that he was not happy he invited me to join the club.   
— What the hell, Vega?! It was an accident!— the kid was slowly coming back to its senses. The bloody nose suited it’s gray hair.   
— Sugawara? Suga can you hear me boy?—   
— hmm— he looked pathetic  
— Vega, get the hell out! I’m calling your parents—   
whatever, I muttered while walking away. 

After that day I never came back to the volleyball courts, but the Suga kid became my friend. Living in the Caribbean had it’s perks. People from many places would somehow get here and never went back to their home countries. My community had a lot of people that came here from Asia, and I befriended this Suga kid. I respected his family. He gave me the faded blue Volleyball club lanyard. He’s one of my best friends now and he isn’t a delinquent like many other pop my friends, so my mom loves him to bits. My mom even prepared dinner for Suga when he had come out gay, and later invited his boyfriend Daichi to meet my mom. I love them. 

Backing away from my houses driveway, I can already tell that today was gonna be beautiful. I live in a more central area of an island, beaches weren’t further than a 30 minute drive. So I took on the sunshine, humidity in the air, and my inhuman need of a strong coffee; and I was out.  
————————————————————————————————  
I wasn’t surprised when I noticed that the new cafe I wanted to try was full. Fortunately, I knew the owner of the building and the sweet woman allowed me to go in, in exchange of my promise to do her oil change next time I came. With that, I went it. 

It was busy, and the A/c was blasting in order to keep the sea of bodies from sticking to each other because of the sweat. Too many people in a confined space wasn’t my favorite atmosphere, but I needed one strong coffee. I got in line and a song was playing, “Zombie Love” by Bohnes. My favorite kind of slow, heartfelt rock. I was vibing to the song and even added it to my playlist. 

Someone was getting out, but bumped into me in the line. Only thing I caught was how much it hurt. The man bumped into my right arm and my shoulder was yelling at me   
FUCKING BEAT HIM UP, THAT SHIT HURT LIKE FUCKING HELL!  
I’m a tough chic, but picking a fight about a bump in a place like this, was uncalled for. The pain was threatening to bring back so many memories.   
The searing pain. The heat. Wheels screeching. Sirens. Cop cars.  
— You’ll be fine, Vega.— and then the darkness was swallowing me. 

— Next, Hi.— the voice startled me out of my memory. I look up and the person that the voice belonged to was an overly excited little redhead that was maybe a little taller than me. He looked sweet and energetic, kinda cute even behind the face shield he’s wearing.   
My breathing is still a little bit shallow when I speak. I must be pale, because the redhead’s smile turned into a nervous one when I walked up to the register. 

— Hi, I-I want a medium americano with caramel, please. And a chocolate chip muffin, if you have any.— My voice is a little raised because the place in crowded, and the redhead nods furiously. I hand over the cash and he continues giving me the pick up receipt.   
— Y-you can s-sit while you w-wait if you’d like.— Is he nervous?   
— Yeah, sure. Thank you ginger.— I say, and flash him a small smile bringing down my face mask and he seems to relax a bit. 

A few minutes go by and the amount of people have gone down considerably, we aren’t supposed to stay in the establishments too long due to the pandemic, but there was an empty table, so I’ll make sure to make some good use of it while I’m here. The decoration is simple and light, a really pleasing sight. Maybe 5 minutes later, the stereo is booming the song “R U Mine” by Arctic Monkeys and I quickly know I’ll definitely will be coming back. 

— Order #32! Americano and muffin!— I hear it and make my way to the bar to pick up my order while mumbling the lyrics to the song, 

“I go crazy 'cause here isn't where I wanna be  
And satisfaction feels like a distant memory…”

“And I can't help myself, all I  
Wanna hear her say is…

— Are you mine?— The baristas voice joins mine to sing that part. I’m not paying attention at first, but I bring down my mask to keep singing.  
— Thanks man— I take the coffee and continue to add sugar. Without looking up I say,   
— Who’s in charge of the playlist? I’ll buy them a drink— 

— Is that so? How ‘bout later tonight?— his voice is steady and relaxed, but I can feel the grind on it.   
I look up to meet the baristas gaze.   
Fuck. Me. best coffee shop. EVER.

He’s tall. I mean, I just see chest and then look up a little bit. He’s lean, but also looks like someone who’s got time to spear at the gym. His rolled up sleeves cover most of them but he has two full sleeves of tattoos, one of some kind of cyborg/machinery type, and the other I don’t make out what it is.   
He’s rocking a mean buzz cut and a few dainty and rather delicate looking piercings, really amazing jewelry taste this guy has. Split eyebrow and a smirk on his face that should be fucking prohibited to have, nearly showing those damn pearly whites.   
God, I’m gonna faint. 

— That’s your playlist baldy?— I say without even thinking straight.   
— Yes, indeed it is.. ya’ like it, huh? — he said, beaming, and flashing a gorgeous smile.  
— Yeah, we have similar tastes in music, I love this song— The last bit of the Arctic Monkeys song now dying down.  
— So what about that drink you offered, short-stuff? — he smirked again, as if laughing at his own private joke. Bastard. Did he just called me short-stuff?  
— I’ll think about it— I just winked, gave him my best shit-eating grin.   
Walked back to the table sipping on my coffee. Damn, this is a mean coffee, did he make it? I sit down to down my muffin, and when I’m done I just pick up my helmet and make my way to the front door.   
Shades on, walking like I own the place. I’ve gotten really good at faking confidence at this point. I touch the front door and before I go, I just say,  
— Great day for both of you— I say in the direction of the ginger. The barista turns around quickly, spilling the milk he was serving.   
I chuckle only because I can se his ears turning pink.   
— See ya’ short-stuff. Owe me a beer, yea?—   
— Still haven’t thought about it, baldy— I wink again.  
Once I’m outside, the welcoming heat greats me and as I’m putting my helmet on and switching the engine back to life, I peak at the inside of the cafe.   
Baldy waved at me and threw a smile at me.   
Fucking hell. I’m coming here again. For fucking sure.


End file.
